Pieces of Other Realities
by Moonraker One
Summary: A Marvel re-imagining. Loving parents send their only child to Earth to escape the war threatening to engulf Krypton. Here, she will have to deal with being an Earth girl, a Kryptonian, and a superhero in a world mostly hostile towards superheroes.
1. Chapter 1

Pieces of Other Realities  
By Moonraker One

PREFACE – Sixteen Years ago

The evening sky over a crystalline planet shone from two illuminations: the first, the red sun high in the sky, and second, explosions that rocked the nearby atmosphere. Large space-faring warships traded blows back and forth with mighty weapons of energy. Down on the surface of the planet, it was pandemonium; people ran back and forth, scrambling either to safety bunkers or to battle stations. Their robes flapping as they scurried, each marked with the symbol of their families, it was a sea of colors as millions of people took position either for help or for combat. Cannons loosed mighty plasma bolts into the air as combat units flew around shooting down enemy fighters. One specific location on the surface of the planet, however, saw a surprising figure.

A man, garbed in a grey and black military uniform, the chest of his outfit emblazoned with a shield complete with a varied letter Z in the chest, carried a small infant in his arms. He had barely been the father of the girl for two and a half weeks when the largest single frontal assault by the enemy army arrived. As he approached a spherical silvery orb, surrounded by machinery on all sides, several figures approached, running from the halls.

One young officer approached, and then saluted. "General Zod!" he beckoned. "The men need your guidance on the front line! The council demands…"

Zod cut him off. "The council be damned! They know that I know my duties. Can't you see I have pressing concerns?"

"Yes sir!" the officer turned and ran.

The general tapped several keys on a console near a pillar of wires that led to the orb. The silvery surface of the sphere parted like water to reveal a single chamber inside. In a seat he placed the baby, wiping a tear from his eye as he did so. Footsteps could be heard behind him, dainty footsteps. He turned to see a familiar, dark haired figure. "Ursa!" he cried out to her. "Why aren't you in a safer location?"

She approached the orb. "Where is a safer location than by you, dear General?" She looked at the child; her child and his child. "I wish she didn't have to go."

Zod shook his head. "I know it is hard to imagine, Ursa, but we cannot be sure this war won't consume the planet. The Vullur are strong, and haven't lost nearly as many as we." He looked at her with sad eyes, a rarity for the proud leader of the army. "It would be wrong to subject her to a life of fear here on Krypton."

Ursa stifled her emotions enough to avoid her voice cracking. "But dear, that planet Jor-El told us about, Earth," she said, worried. "The people are a violent race, complete with hatred and prejudice."

"I understand your concern, but even still, is it not a much safer place than here? The strife hasn't concluded in eight years, and they've reached our homeplanet." He removed from his jacket a single crystal. "Jor-El has given us all of the knowledge of Krypton on this crystal. He's given us access to the science guild teleporter, and our daughter will reach Earth safely, and when she gets there, she will have as perfect an education as any Kryptonian receives. Also, her powers will develop rather quickly. Perhaps loving parents will find and raise her."

Ursa pleaded with him. "But even Jor-El plans to raise his son Kal-El here on Krypton, staking his bet on us winning this war. Must we do this?"

Zod closed his eyes for but a moment, and nodded. "Jor-El gambles with his son's life. I am not a gambling man, I'm a military man. I bet only on sure things. And I can't be sure we're going to win." He activated the machine. "And besides, if we do win this war, we'll see her again anyway." He began to cry, for the first time since his infancy. "I certainly hope."

The orb vanished in a torrent of electrical current. The general turned to head back to the front line. "Goodbye, my dear Faora. May we meet again on this mortal coil."

CHAPTER ONE – The Present

The morning's sunlight shattered the blissful dreams of a young woman, resting comfortably on a bed lying face down. The brightness drew her awake and she pulled away from the drool-covered pillow. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and rose to a kneeling position on the bed, and looked at the clock. The sight of the clock was like a brick to a plate glass window to shock her. _Seven fifteen?...!_ she thought, mystified at how she slept through two alarms. _School starts at seven thirty!_ She shot out of bed like a rocket.

Acting immediately, with super speed she yanked an undergarment tanktop and a pair of night shorts off, changing into a pair of jeans and a blue short sleeved shirt. Next, she zoomed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and combed her hair into smooth. Finally, she headed downstairs and devoured a hastily constructed sandwich and cereal. All of this took less than nine seconds. Her mother folded her arms and donned a disdainful expression. "Now, Laurel, what have I told you about being late? And please put your glasses on!"

Laurel rolled her green eyes. "I'm not gonna be late, mom," she countered. "Fifteen minutes? That's a plenty big window. New York traffic's nothing to zip around." She hoisted a thick backpack onto her shoulders.

"I hope you have a good day at school, dear!" her mother said, adjusting her daughter's collar.

The father finished his coffee. "Martha, don't we have to get going?"

Martha checked her watch. She gasped. "We'd better get going Jonathan!" She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Be careful. You don't want anybody asking too many questions about your powers."

Laurel Kent waved as she opened the door and prepared to take off. "I will be, mom! Dad! See you later!" She quickly vanished, leaving only a momentary blur behind. Weaving back and forth through the sea of cars and people, she made it to the front entrance to the high school in less than twenty seconds. Stopping behind in an alley, she exited and merged with the crowd of students. Ignoring the unwanted attention from several of the male students, she made her way up the steps and down the hall. She hated having to start high school so far away from her last home. Her parents, the Kents, had found her when they were still living in Kansas. They moved to New York after her freshman year of high school so her father and her uncle could start their food distribution business together. Still, she liked being around people, so perhaps, she figured, it wouldn't be so bad.

Her first period class, English, was in a small classroom down on the left, past two restrooms. She filed in, the last one to enter, and the teacher pulled her to the front. "Now, class," she introduced, "we've got a new student! This girl, Laurel Kent, transferred here after her parents moved from Kansas. Let's give her help around if she needs it, because this is all new to her." She looked around, taking note of where everyone was. "You can sit in the fourth row, next to Peter."

She calmly walked down the aisle until she found her seat, next to an unassuming young man with brownish hair. He smiled at her and she smiled back, quickly opening her pack and pulling out the assigned reading material. He leaned over. "Those are awfully big," he whispered to her.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" she said, a slight sharpness to her voice.

He pointed to her backpack. "You've got all of today's books in at once, I mean. I can't imagine carrying eight hours of books at once."

"Oh! Uh, I can handle it," she quickly recovered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"I'm Peter Parker." He smiled again. It had a disarming effect.

"Laurel," She introduced. Right then she noticed something. "Got a scar on your hand there."

He brushed it off. "Spider bite. Nothing major."

She turned to her book. It certainly didn't lack in thickness. With her fingernail, she peeled the cellophane wrapping off. Since it was the first day, not much happened other than the introduction of the students to one another and the rules of the classroom being set out. So, as the teacher told about the expectations of the semester, she made sure no one was looking and sped through the entire book in between sentences, while no one was looking at her. After that, it was a simple matter of waiting for the bell to ring and the class was over.

With one class finished, she proceeded to math, then history. After a few class periods, it was time for lunch. Making her way to the cafeteria, she grabbed her lunch and sat down. As she began eating, a young man in a shirt and tie, looking quite formal, sat down next to her. She noticed his positive demeanor and, to make sure it was genuine, she used her enhanced hearing to listen for his heartbeat. It was calm; he was being honest. "So, you're the new girl," he began. "I'm Harry Osborn. Nice to meet you."

"Laurel Kent." She calmly took a bite. "What's with the getup? Are you a member of student government or something?"

This drew a laugh out of him. "Nice one, but no. My dad said I should start the day out looking like I'm ready for anything."

Something about him seemed familiar. When she thought of his name, it came to her. "You wouldn't be…the son of the president of OsCorp?"

He rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows about my dad. I swear, I'm not fond of being connected to Norman Osborn's reputation."

She chuckled a bit. "Don't worry; I'm sure you'll emerge from the shadow one day."

He scoffed. "At least you think so." Within a few moments, both Peter and Mary Jane sat down. "Hey, you guys don't have to crowd around me."

"There's always a crowd when you're involved," Mary Jane joked. "So," she said, turning to Laurel. "You're from Kansas? New York must be a hell of a change."

Laurel nodded. "Absolutely. I'm amazed how tightly packed everything is. In Kansas, there were distances; here, it's like a sardine can. Even though I kinda like being able to go anywhere from somewhere close, the open spaces are something I miss." She continued eating her food.

"Those are some pretty cool looking glasses," Mary Jane complimented. "I've never seen that style of frame before. And those lenses, they look so…different."

"It's actually a new type of lens," Laurel stated. "It's made from crystal instead of glass, and it's much more durable."

"Cool!"

"Yeah, I thought so too." She got up to empty her tray after finishing. The thought of having made friends on her first day gave her a sense of joy, and it helped her overcome her fear of being in a new location. If the three of them seemed so tight-knit, then perhaps, she figured, there were other groups of friends that she might be able to make as well.

"Hey, maybe we can do something as a group after school, sometime!" Harry cried out from the table. In response Laurel turned for a moment to smile and give a thumbs-up.

After lunch, she headed to the class she considered a double-edged sword: physical education. She had practiced control for quite some time, and this class, she believed, would certainly put it to the test. She didn't want to destroy anything, after all. Changing into a pair of athletic bloomers and a short sleeved shirt, she entered the main area of the gymnasium. Several of the other girls appeared to be eyeing her with bad intent; she ignored them.

"I'm not going to brief anyone on the rules of basketball," the teacher explained, "because this is high school. If you haven't learned by now, you're in deep trouble. Since there's an uneven number of you, someone's going to have to sit out." He noticed something in the back row. "Kent! Do you have to have those glasses on while you play? I don't think I have to remind you that the school assumes no responsibility for what happens to them."

Laurel nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, just making sure. Now, count one and two. If the person in front of you is a one, you're a two. That's what team you're on." He clapped his hands. "Go ahead!"

From where she stood, she figured out through math that she was a two, and once everyone figured out their position, she gathered with her group. The first guy to be a two decided he was to be the team captain, and within five minutes, everyone knew a relative strategy. She focused on her own idea, though, because she had more to worry about than they did. Taking her position on the field, she took a deep breath and got ready to start the game.

The groups took off in their respective directions like billiard balls being knocked out of formation. Players moved about to the end of the court with the opposing team attempting a shot. It missed and quickly was caught again. With each person either covering someone or trying to avoid being covered, she saw the girl from earlier in possession of the ball and decided to make a dash for it. Putting speed—but not too much—behind her dash, she carefully outpaced all her competitors by a margin which, while incredible, could seem within human limits. When she saw her target aim for a pass, she ducked between two people and intercepted. Immediately, she saw the team member of hers closest to the basket. He stood quite a ways across the court; she quickly deduced the proper angle and force necessary to throw the ball so it would bounce on the ground underneath a player and come up to the waist level of her teammate.

He saw the ball coming and captured it, turning to take the shot. It sailed, hit the backboard, and fell into the net. Her team cheered as they made their first point. It became apparent to Laurel very quickly that, as long as she maintained her proper focus, her powers could be kept under control, even in exciting situations. It became apparent to the coach very quickly, that, should he be interested in a championship for girls' basketball, he should consider approaching her for a team position. After team two won by a several point margin, he began compiling a list in his head of girls he could cut from the team in order to make room for her.

"Laurel," he said, jogging up to her after the period ended, "you really went above and beyond the call of duty there. Your team wouldn't have won if it hadn't been for you. I have seniors that don't have as much athleticism as I saw you show there. I want you on the girls' basketball team."

She donned a questioning look. "But coach, I thought you said the girls' team was full for the semester!" _My team_? She noticed him say.

"It was," he stated, "until you came along. You really can blow everyone away."

She weighed the options, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, coach, but I really want to focus on my studies." An ordinary game was meaningless; she didn't, however, want to cheat at games that counted towards a goal.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Okay, but at least think about it for next year."

She nodded. "I will," she lied. "See you, coach." She headed off to her next class. It was government: a topic she really wasn't fond of. After that, there was Literature and Philosophy, and those two classes, while fascinating, couldn't compare to the knowledge she'd already obtained through her knowledge crystal.

After she made it all the way through her classes, she stepped out of the building, and moved to the right of the entrance, walking down the sidewalk. Sometimes, she enjoyed walking at a normal pace. It allowed her to calm down from the stresses of the day. After a while of moving with the crowd, she made it to her home. Shutting the door behind her, she smiled and set her pack on the ground before sitting down to eat. "Good afternoon," she said.

"How was your first day at the new school?" Martha asked.

Laurel raised her eyebrows as she thought back. "Pretty good," she explained. "I made some new friends. I got an offer from the coach to join the girls' basketball team."

This got the parents' attention. "So, what did you say?" asked Jonathan.

She shrugged as a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. "I'm really not thinking of joining," she admitted, "because after all, it isn't exactly fair to the girls on the other teams. I have advantages they don't." She took a sip. "I got noticed because we won the game of basketball we played in P.E. We won because of me. I severely toned down my powers, and I still guaranteed victory." The thought brought her a mild chuckle. "I guess Kryptonians weren't meant to play basketball."

Martha sat down. "Honey, unfair advantage or not, I don't want you skipping out on something just because you feel like you'll put others off. If they're really good enough to make it, they'll make it. All you'll do is get there first."

"Laurel," Jonathan added, "I hate to sound like a cynic, but even though I moved us here to start a business with my brother, and it's doing pretty good, we aren't rich. I hate to even bring this up, but we're not. Before you know it those four years of high school will be gone, and then college will come around. You have to think about possible ways to get in."

She shot her father a look. "I'm not putting any options off the table," she said. "But I want to be more honest than that. You guys raised me to be better than that. The fact that you even have to bring it up is a bit discouraging." She took another sip, and then looked up. "But I do know something I want to be."

"Oh?" Her mother stated. "What's that, dear?"

She grinned. "A superhero; that's what I want to be. There's this guy going around calling himself Spider-Man, and I'm convinced that he's a high schooler. If he can do it, and I'm more powerful than him, certainly I can do it."

The Kents looked at each other, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, before turning back to her. "Are you sure? I mean, even though Spider-Man seems like he's doing only good, the press hounds him so," the mother explained. "They write such nasty things about him. Are you sure you want to put yourself through that?"

She nodded. "Certainly. I thought of everything. I won't be wearing a mask; if they see my face, they'll be more inclined to trust me. Also, my suit will be bright and colorful so there's a psychological element. Also, it'll have the symbol right on the front; a shield covering the chest with the Z symbol of the house of Zod in it. I already have these glasses which bend light around my face making me look different, that I created just for this purpose. Nobody's seen me without them. They won't connect me to the super me."

Jonathan found himself surprised by the detail in it all. "But what'll you call yourself?"

"Something simple," she stated. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out a drawing of the costume. "Superwoman. You see? The costume is incredibly simple yet effective: it's a blue full-length bodysuit, covering everything except my head, hands and feet. I'll be wearing a pair of red trunks on the outside, red boots, and a yellow cape. And see? The chest is covered by the shield with the house of Zod symbol, and there's a yellow belt to keep the short trunks in place."

"You've really thought this through!"

She stood up. "Of course, mother! I'm going to be saving people's lives and all. You can't just rush into that." She raced upstairs. When she came back down, she was wearing a real version of the drawing on the paper. "So, what do you think? The glorious debut of Superwoman?"

Jonathan scratched his head. "Dear, it looks a bit…tight. It can't be comfortable, plus, won't it tear if it's that close to your skin?"

She moved around. "It might be tight, but it's very movable." She shrugged. "Besides: I've got an energy aura around my body that makes me almost invulnerable, the suit has to be tight in order for my body to protect it."

Martha smiled. "It looks very prominent, dear. Very big and powerful." She squinted in confusion a moment. "What did you make it out of? The fabric looks…unusual."

She shifted position a few times. "The boots are just painted rubber rain boots," she began. "The bodysuit and trunks are an altered version of vinyl, and the cape is made from an old flag base. I made the belt out of an old leather base. The shield is a separate piece sewed onto the bodysuit."

"You know, dear," Martha said, "I never paid attention before, but now that I'm looking, you really do notice the difference without your glasses. Not only do your eyes look a different color with them, but the light bending effect of the glasses makes your cheekbones look lower set and your face a bit more round. You look skinnier, face wise, when you're not wearing them." She hugged her daughter. "If this is what you want to do, we're going to support you one hundred percent."

She headed upstairs. "I'll be out later," she said. "Right now, I want to study a bit more with the knowledge crystal. There's a project I'm working on." As she got upstairs, she closed the door and picked up a translucent white crystal that sat on her desk. She held it in her hand and closed her eyes. **"Crystal, activate**,**"** she said in Kryptonese.

"**Hello, Faora," **a familiar voice said. **"You've already completed your Kryptonian education; what do you require?"**

She set it on the counter, and it began levitating and spinning on its own. **"I know you aren't the real Jor-El, just a simulation, but could you put your artificial intelligence to work on a project idea I had?" **She sat down on the bed.

"**I could certainly try**," Jor-El's simulation spoke. **"What sort of project is it?"**

"**I wanted to build a device that operated on your theory of using specific molecules to transmit information,"** she replied**. "I believe that, even though the transmitting crystals of Krypton don't exist here, I could conceivably use the planet's atmosphere as a gigantic transmitting antenna, using your theory."**

The crystal processed the request for a few moments. **"It certainly is possible,"** The version of Jor-El explained, **"but you couldn't just use the atmosphere. It would have to be a certain gas, preferably nitrogen, since it is the most abundant. Also, you would have to channel a lot of power for a very brief message, and you couldn't guarantee who'd get it because it would transmit in all directions."**

"**That's fine," **she answered. **"I think I know of a power source. And my message won't be long at all. A simple 'Faora is on Earth,' will suffice. How much power will I need?"**

"**Approximately five hundred kilowatts for a two second message. Where will you get the power?"**

"**Stark Industries disposes of old portable arc reactors at secure locations. I can reconstitute the burnt-out palladium with my heat vision."**

"**That should work. Do you want me to start compiling plans for construction of the mechanism?"**

"**Yes. By the end of the week, I should have enough material to begin."** As the crystal deactivated, she put her newly-made superhero costume in her backpack, removing her books, and headed downstairs to leave. She grabbed a piece of buttered toast from her mother and began walking down the street. She pushed her glasses into place. Almost immediately, she began exercising her super hearing and listening for certain sounds.

One caught her ear. Approximately five city blocks from where she stood a former employee of Daily Bugle editor-in-chief J. Jonah Jameson burst into the office wielding a gun. She didn't listen to all the details of the conversation, but clearly heard the sound of breaking glass. Quickly, she turned in the direction of the building and combined her see-through vision along with her telescopic vision to see the middle aged man falling to his imminent death. She hadn't a moment to waste.

In a heartbeat's span, she dashed down an alley, changed outfits, and flew off, leaving her old clothes and glasses in the alley. Utilizing super speed with flight, she dodged buildings as she flew to his rescue. Certain people noticed a reddish-blue streak pass by them overhead, and stared with confusion. In under a second, she got under Jameson, caught him, and then gradually slowed her descent so as not to crush him with G-forces. She sat him down on the ground. "Just a moment, mister," she said. Quickly, she flew up several dozen stories and into the office, catching the perpetrator by his collar, grabbing his gun, and flew him down to street level. "He won't be troubling you anymore, sir."

His reaction was quite different than what she expected. He angrily stood with clenched fists. "Who the hell are you? How'd you catch me like that?" He grabbed his shoulder. "I think my shoulder's jarred. What's going on here?"

She looked at him a bit confusedly. "Sir? I caught you as you were falling out your window. I assume he pushed you out."

"That was after he tried to shoot me and missed! Why didn't you come sooner?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Aren't you grateful that I saved your life?"

"Sure. I'll have the lady in accounting give you twenty bucks for your trouble. I've got a busy newspaper to run and you've got a lousy sense of timing. Now go do what you superheroes do and pretend to save people." He was about to storm off, when he turned around a moment. "Who are you?"

She made a pose. "Superwoman."

He looked at the symbol on her chest. "That kinda looks like a Z. Super starts with an 'S.'"

She gave him an exasperated stare. "It's a family crest."

"Hmm, I guess super starts with a Z where you come from. Really special. My name's J. Jonah Jameson, and you're certainly going to appear on tomorrow's headlines. 'New Super Heroine Almost Kills Newspaper Reporter in Debut.'"

She folded her arms. "Isn't that a bit unfair?"

He laughed a bit. "The world isn't fair, sweetcheeks. Now why don't you go? You're attracting a crowd."

She awkwardly waved at the crowd. "Uh, hi there. I'm…Superwoman. I'm here to help."

An old lady standing around the amazed and moody people pointed. "Isn't that outfit a bit tight?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't have a fortune to make my costume out of," she apologized. She was confused; what was with these people? She'd just saved a man from certain death and they respond with hostility and distrust?

With her super hearing, she could hear all kinds of unflattering statements and questions people were whispering.

"She looks like a Halloween hooker."

"She's awfully…big in the chest. She can't be older than seventeen; you think she's surgically enhanced?"

"She's probably a fucking mutant. She's out to get us."

Frustrated, she cleared her throat loudly. "By the way, people, just to let you know, _I can_ hear every word you're saying. Super-enhanced hearing is one of my powers. Try to keep the mean statements to a minimum, if you please. I _am_ trying to make this city a better place."

Some people looked ashamed, while others were emboldened. Like one man who yelled, "why won't you mutants go away!"

"For YOUR information sir, I'm NOT a mutant. I'm leaving now."

Flying off, her first rescue felt almost like a failure. Yet, she knew she'd done good because a man was alive and another was going to jail. She sped down and picked up her backpack before anyone could see her and then rested atop a roof. She spread out, laying on the hard surface, using her pack as a pillow. Her hearing alerted her to a few crimes here and there, and she'd be off to leave, but she wanted to think a moment. "Why can't people just be grateful," she muttered to herself.

"People are like that," a voice surprisingly said. Almost at once, she stood tall. She turned around to see a figure she'd previously only seen in newspapers. "And besides, you might want to get used to Jameson: he has it out for some of us."

"Spiderman?" she noticed. Curious, she used her see-through vision. Immediately upon recognition, her eyes shot open. "Parker?...!"

This unnerved him greatly. "Uh, I don't know what you're…"

"I can see through solid objects," she answered. "I know who you are."

"That's a bit personal! Secrets are important to me!"

She waved him off. "Don't worry, I'm not going to spill anything." She reached in her backpack. "Besides, if you're the amazing Spiderman, I've got a secret to tell you." She put her glasses on, and the holographic effect activated at once. She could tell by his change in stance that he was surprised.

"L…Laurel?"

She shrugged her shoulders, after putting her glasses back in the pack. "What? Surprised that I'm an alien from another planet? By the way, how did Spiderman get his powers? Don't tell me there's a planet where humans and spiders mate."

He found that statement hilarious. "No, actually I was just bitten by a genetically engineered spider. So, that's your family crest?" He pointed to the shield on her chest.

"The 'Z' is the family symbol of the house of Zod," she explained. "On Krypton, every person wears their family crest on their clothing." She looked past him. "Six blocks that way, there's a robbery in progress. You can make it in time; I've got an apartment fire to deal with."

He snapped to attention. "Oh, right! Sorry. See you in class?"

She kissed his mask. "See you later, Peter."

She flew off. Perhaps being a superhero wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Pieces of Other Realities  
By Moonraker One

CHAPTER TWO – With A Little Help from My Friends

In certain parts of New York, it would not be very wise to visit at night if one did not possess invulnerability. Laurel Kent, however, did possess this trait; in fact, along with it, she possessed super speed, incredible strength, flight, enhanced senses, and other powers. Still, the amount of crime in one evening absolutely amazed her. She did not have to sleep very long—as her powers developed, she found her nocturnal resting hours decreasing dramatically, so she spent more time doing what she loved. She found herself having stopped a series of arsonists from setting fire to an apartment building, and broken the wrist of a potential rapist. Currently, she found herself in the middle of thirty men planning a gang war.

"So, you're that new girly girl hero that the Bugle's been cutting down," one of them chimed in, readying his gun. "Let's see if you're more bulletproof than Kevlar."

"I'm more afraid of your friends if your bullets ricochet," she admitted to him, using her hearing to tell where they were by their heartbeats.

A rat scurrying across the floor of the building basement kicked off the strife. She took a deep breath as she turned with incredible speed to catch a fired slug midair. Not hesitating, a hurricane blast of wind she loosed at the culprit, introducing him violently to the wall. Another of the gangsters took his chance to charge and attempt to stab her. His knife broke, and she grabbed him by the arm and tossed him into a group of three. She grappled one of the men struggling to climb to his feet, and spun him around like a baton. Finally, one last man stood in front of her. He had his gun drawn to her forehead. He fired.

The next sound heard came from the crushed slug hitting the floor. He sheepishly looked at her before taking off running. "Take my word, fellas," she warned, "if you keep up this gang activity, I will find your hideout again, and I will take each and every one of you down. Maybe if you get your ass kicked enough times, you'll stop this. I am the ear in the sky, and I'm listening." She flew up until she made her way to the roof. She landed a few feet away from a figure she'd heard the heartbeat of. Seeing him face to face, it sort of intrigued her. He wore a costume that looked rather devilish. "I knew you were watching the fight. I could hear you. Who are you?"

He grinned. "It's a shame."

She folded her arms. "What is?" What was this? He couldn't just answer her question? And what was with the double D on his head covering? How could he see with the mask covering his eyes?

"You can hear better than me, but you don't know how to use it," he shot back. "And by the way, I'm Daredevil."

She saw through his mask, all the way down to the retinas in the back of his eyes. It shocked her. "You're…blind?" She found herself nearly speechless. "You can't see! How did you know what was going on in the fight?"

This drew laughter from him. "Always depending on the light to fight your enemies. It isn't always the best way. I was blinded. Yet I learned how to use my hearing the way a ship uses radar. Some animals do it too."

Laurel raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty cool. By the way, Daredevil? How'd you get blinded? I can see the damage to your retinas."

"Unfortunate accident," he admitted. "Isn't the worst thing that can happen to a person. The worst is when you don't decide to get up and make do." He smiled. "Thanks for the assistance. I was about to get involved, when you showed up. You probably scared them enough that you made my job easier."

She smiled and stuck out her hand. "Name's Superwoman, and I'm anywhere I'm needed, for anybody who needs help."

"Good motto to live by," he said, shaking her hand. An impressive series of acrobatics saw him go from rooftop to ground level in a short few moments. It never ceased to amaze her how non-powered individuals could be so effective at fighting crime; it almost made her feel like a cheat for a moment. Of course, she then realized that she could tackle enemies they couldn't, so it evened out.

Ascending high above the city, she looked upon the vast collection of steel and glass, and utilized her super hearing. Thanks to her efforts, she could near nothing major happening crime-wise. She flew towards a location not many knew existed; a Stark Industries secure disposal facility. She believed that Krypton survived the war that prompted General Zod to send his daughter to Earth. If she was going to send a signal across several galaxies, she would need to make use of the higher dimensions. She found the place about four days ago when she scanned parts of the city with her see-through vision. Hastily, she put on all black: pants, shirt, and a ski mask, all to cover her costume. She hated the secrecy; but if she was going to steal from Tony Stark—to get materials to send a signal to Krypton—she didn't want him to know that Superwoman was the one doing the stealing. Also, she rationalized it in her head that he wouldn't miss some spent palladium cores, metal, and glass; after all, it wasn't like she was going to do this a second time.

In full super thief mode, she perched between two nearby buildings, hiding in the shadows. Her vision allowed her to see the otherwise invisible beams of energy that made up the silent perimeter alarm. Six guards made a circular round every thirty minutes. The facility's size allowed every part of the building to be guarded at all times except one, which was only unguarded for a fraction of a second. It amazed her how well Tony Stark guarded a trash disposal. Thirteen minutes of waiting allowed the guards to move into the right position. The gate was partially open, and the otherwise invisible sensor beams swept away for a single moment. That was all she needed.

Her heart rate accelerated as she zoomed past the beams just as the sensor scanned where she had been a moment ago. As the two guards near the gate returned to their post, by the time they looked where a blur had been, she was inside. The building's floor had pressure sensors—that she could see with her see-through vision—so she flew over them. She levitated over an employee pushing a cart full of computer equipment as he scanned his keycard at a terminal near a hallway. This shut down all the cameras and security systems of that hall, so she took off. Her next obstacle took the form of a door which had a security code requirement. She took refuge in an air duct until a man swiped his card. From there, she had access to a large chamber with several incinerators. The computer equipment piled in a large dumpster which sat on a conveyor belt. To the left, there was her target: spent palladium, and the shells of burnt-out portable arc reactors. With some effort—and some heat vision to re-smelt the palladium—she could get at least two of her own arc reactors built.

She wasted no time. Immediately, she dove into the truck's cargo area. Furiously scooping handfuls of spent cores and other components into her shirt's pockets, she hid in the cargo area until the personnel largely moved away. After that, it was a careful game of hiding and running until she got out of the facility. It actually took her much longer to exit than entering.

Once outside, she quickly made her way back to her room. She hoped her efforts would pay off; she unloaded the materials onto her desk. Enough components sat on her desk to make at least two arc reactors. It wouldn't burn for very long, especially since she was going to utilize a huge portion of their energy, but at least she would be able to send a message.

Quietly, and quickly, she went downstairs; she needed a metal bowl for the trash. Back upstairs, she took the metal shells of the portable reactors, and began cleaning them of burnt-on particulates with her fingernails. It took almost twenty minutes, but eventually, she had scraped clean all of the gunk. Next, she worked on the palladium cores themselves .The exact substance she needed from each were badly burned. She held each blackened ring in her hand and held it over the bowl. Using her heat vision, and some careful scraping, she cleaned all the waste off. A half hour later, and she had it clean. All that was left was to manipulate it into the proper shape. The knowledge crystal's artificial intelligence guided her the entire way.

"**Faora," **it said in Kryptonese, **"Now that you've got all the materials in place, you just have to get them oscillating at the proper speed. This means you have to hit it with a precise frequency of heat vision. Concentrate the way I tell you, and it should start."**

She closed the partially see-through covering on both of the reactors she had made. She held her breath. **"I'm ready now."**

"**Focus your microscopic vision until you see clusters of molecules one thousand molecules at a time,"** he ordered, **"and then hit those groups with narrow heat vision. You have to hit two of them, one on the opposite end of the arc than the other, and that should start it. Go."**

She held it close to her face. Focusing harder on her microscopic vision than ever before, she saw the rare metal in ever increasing detail. She found it incredibly difficult to maintain focus at such a small size. The speed they vibrated at due to their temperature made it difficult to be sure, but she believed she found the right width. A single burst of heat from her eyes got it glowing white hot. She then quickly rotated the device in her hand until she saw an area close enough to be diametrically opposite. Without a wasted moment, she did the same burst as before.

The white glow spread across the entire circle of metal. Within a second or two, electrical current could be seen within the device. She smiled widely as she went to work on the other; she had power to send her message. And about five minutes later, she had the other one working.

"**Ok, I've got them working. Now, what next?"** Her question got the crystal calculating again.

"**I've contained the necessary instructions in a piece of this crystal. Break off a tiny piece of the tip, connect the electrical wires of the crystal to a bowl of water, and drop the piece in. It will utilize the electrical current while it is growing in the water to transmit a message through the vibrations of molecules. These will carry across the higher dimensions, and, if Krypton is still around, they will surely be able to pick it up."**

"**Good,"** she replied. **"Here is the message: 'I am Faora, daughter of Zod. I am on Earth.' That's it."** She went downstairs to get a second bowl. Filling it with water, she came back upstairs and put it on the desk. She inserted the two open wires of the arc reactors in the water, and, breaking off a chunk of crystal the size of a grain of salt, dropped it in the water.

That very instant, the two arc reactors went dead. A normal person couldn't see it, but all the air in the room suddenly lined up in a very predictable pattern, which gas normally doesn't do. Only for the briefest of time periods did this happen, but their synchronized vibrations carried all across the Earth's atmosphere before dying out. She hoped the signal, which would carry through the higher dimensions, would materialize within a signal range of where Krypton might be. It worked because the atoms that make up matter were linked together by the big bang. Two atoms might be light years apart, quantum theory dictated, by if one vibrates a certain way, the other does also, as if a wire impossibly small and long connected them. On the negative side of the argument, this meant that people who might be out to kill her could track her location to Earth, but the risk was worth it; if Krypton still existed, she had to know.

She fell asleep, proud of another late afternoon and night of super heroics. After the three or so hours of sleep she actually depended on, she readied herself and made it to school in less than five minutes. Blending into the crowd of students had its disadvantages, as groping happened occasionally, and she couldn't exactly break someone's hand, though not for a lack of desire to do so. She made it to her locker relatively free of distraction, and got her papers for the day ready. As she went to close her locker, a friend of hers came by.

"Hey, Laurel," Gwen Stacy began.

She gave a smile. "Morning, Gwen," she answered.

Gwen leaned in. "I don't know if you've noticed, maybe you have, but Flash Thompson's been watching you."

Laurel rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I've noticed. He isn't exactly subtle. I feel sorry for his girlfriend."

Gwen let out a humored sigh. "You must not date much. He's a jock; what do you expect. Those guys are always about the grass being greener." She looked down and up again. "After all, you are a bit…ahem…more developed than Liz Allan is."

"That's pretty pathetic, if you ask me." She closed her locker. "Nobody bothers her because she's a cheerleader. They expect it. For me though? It's so easy to judge. I wear the loosest shirts I can find, and I still get dirty looks from some teachers. It just makes me mad. Why is she jealous of me when she could get mad at him for being such a sleaze?"

Gwen shrugged. "Hey, don't sweat it. You've got smarts; I think that's what makes the cheerleader types mad. You've got their body and a nerd's brain."

She shot a look back. "That's a hell of a way of putting it."

"Hey, it's true. You really should take my advice. Strut your stuff. I think you beating up Liz in a catfight would be pretty hilarious."

"The hospital bill sure wouldn't. See you later, Gwen. Gotta get to class."

After she left the locker area, she hoped to head off to class. Right before she could get very far, though, a secretary of the assistant principal approached her.

"Miss Kent?" the woman began. "You've got a note; I've been asked to give it straight to you."

Laurel took the note from the secretary's hand. "Thank you," she politely replied. She read it silently.

"Today after school, meet a friend by the Baxter Building," it said.

Just wonderful, she thought. Stark Industries noticed the missing cargo. That's the only thing she could think of. After all, the Baxter Building was home to the Fantastic Four; they'd obviously be in league with Tony Stark, because the superheroes have to be connected. Still, she had a normal, human life to get to, and she didn't want the female teachers getting any wrong ideas about her. She took Gwen's words very seriously. She didn't want to come across as a slutty type, just because the cheerleaders didn't wear anything remotely resembling conservative outfits. So, she went to her classes the same as any other day.

Once school ended for the day, she made sure she was out of sight before changing into her costume. Then, she quickly made her way to the roof of the Baxter Building. She didn't know which "friend" to expect, but it quickly became apparent when Iron Man landed on the roof. She felt extremely nervous, partially because she'd never been in the presence of Iron Man before, and partially because she didn't know exactly what his suit was capable of.

"It's obvious you know who I am," she told him, using her vision powers to ascertain his identity as well. "So, I'm here, Mister Stark. How exactly did you find my identity out?"

"One of my garbage trucks left a secure disposal facility and arrived at the dump a little light," he answered. "I checked the security photos, and the cameras didn't show anything suspicious…except one. There was an object moving so fast, it was only on a single frame of just one of sixty three cameras. The only reason someone would steal from my disposal facility would be to build a portable arc reactor, so all I had to do was wait. I was prepared to scan the energy frequencies of this entire city for months…but then, the answer came to me when Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four detected a signal sent and traced its point of origin to your apartment."

Suddenly feeling very small, she decided to put on fake bravado and stick through it. It took all her nerves to force out the sheepishness. "I knew there'd be risks," she said, hoping her voice wouldn't crack, "but I had to. I had to hope the message would get through."

He took a step forward for intimidation's sake. "Now it's time to tell me a little more about yourself. Sure, you've shown up and done a lot of good since coming into the public eye as a superhero, but nobody knows squat about you. What did you need to steal from me to send a message for?"

"I come from the planet Krypton," she told him. "I don't know for sure if it's still there. There was a war between my people and a race called the Vullur. My father is General Zod, and he didn't want me to grow up in the shadow of war. But if there's even the remote possibility that Krypton survived, I have to make sure."

Iron Man folded his arms. "I guess that makes sense. But I do have a question, though, what do the symbols mean?"

She looked down. "Oh, this? The Z is the symbol of the house of Zod. Each Kryptonian wears their family crest on their outfit. My full name is Faora Dru-Zod, because we girls receive our father's name as our maiden name. The S on my cape is the flag of the Kryptonian Empire, the symbol of the house of El, another of our high-ranking families."

"I wanted to ask you a question," a voice from behind her said. "Why don't we come inside and we'll talk about it."

She turned around, startled. "Uh, ok," she stuttered. Tony Stark had an air about him that impressed her. But to see Reed Richards, one of the most influential and intelligent scientific minds of Earth, in her presence, she could scarcely find the words to say. Rather, she simply followed him and Iron Man down into the building. The level of technology utterly amazed her. Sure, she had seen images of Kryptonian technology from the data crystal, but the human scientist Mister Fantastic was very close.

"Your powers are utterly amazing," Reed Richards began, sitting at a console. "I haven't been able to get close enough to you to get a perfect analysis, but from what I've seen, you may be one of the most powerful beings on Earth. You've got strength levels that put you on par with the Hulk, speed easily surpassing the mutant Quicksilver, your heat vision has output on par with Cyclops, your breath powers are like Storm and Iceman combined, plus your invulnerability. Did I miss any?"

"Uh, yeah, I've got see-through vision, microscopic and telescopic vision, and super hearing."

"Amazing," he commented. "I'd like to get a chance to study some of your tissue, because if I can figure out how your cells process and store energy, it might have countless possibilities. Tell me, where do you get your powers from? The sun?"

"We Kryptonians make the energy internally. I have no idea where it comes from."

Tony leaned over. "Uh, Reed? Hate to interrupt this conversation, but didn't you have a bigger question to ask?"

"Oh! I'm sorry .I forgot." He laughed a bit. "I can get caught up whenever I get the chance to learn something new." He got more serious. "Tell me, you managed to utilize quantum entanglement to send a signal across hyperspace with the atoms of gas that make up the Earth's atmosphere as a giant antenna. I had worked out how to do that a few years ago, but never put it into use. How'd you figure it out?"

She nervously scratched her head. "Erm, I, uh, I don't want to toot my own horn, but…"

He rolled his eyes. "Please. I'm not going to get upset."

"I, uh, I may not be as smart as you or Tony, but I figured out how to use my speed powers in relation to brain processes."

Both Reed and Tony blinked a few times. "So," Tony said, "you found out how to _think at super speed_?"

She shrugged. "Hey, I just wanted to see if it would work, and it did. Plus, I had a superior to human education thanks to the knowledge crystal I was sent here with."

"Interesting," Reed chimed in. "Anyway, let me just take a quick cheek scrape and I'll be happy."

She opened her mouth as he swabbed it with a cotton swab. "I'm glad I got to talk to you," she admitted. "To be able to chat with one of the foremost scientific minds is a great honor."

"Why thank you," Reed replied. "It's not every day that I get to meet an alien as moral and trustworthy as you are."

"That is something that I found intriguing," Tony added. "For an extraterrestrial, you look impressively human. There's no visible difference. For parallel evolution to take place across such a vast magnitude of space, the odds have to be astronomical."

"In any case, I'd like to be the first to say, you're a friend of the Fantastic Four." Reed shook her hand. "If you ever need employment…"

She interrupted him. "Sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I'd feel like it was an act of pity. I'd rather make it on my own skill."

He gave a positive look. "An admirable quality. But if you ever need anything, you know where the Baxter Building is."

Tony prepared to leave. "Oh, and by the way, if you need equipment for a pet project, I'd prefer if you called my office first."

She laughed a bit. "I didn't know anybody yet."

"Do you want to meet the rest of the Four?"

She prepared to fly away. "I'll catch up on that offer some other time. Right now, I have to go see about job opportunities."

As she flew out of the Baxter Building, and found a cramped alleyway without any people to change back into her normal outfit, she did a small jump for joy. She'd only been a superhero for a little over a week and already she'd made friends with Mister Fantastic of the Fantastic Four, and Iron Man as well. Now, all she had to do was find herself a means of employment and she'd be set.

Slowly, she made her way to the apartment, content to relax for a bit before heading out to do more super heroics. She found it more peaceful to fight crime at night, because when people lay in bed asleep, they couldn't bother her with the displays of both affection towards her actions, or their jeers at their perception of her. It irked her that public perception of her was down largely because of the Daily Bugle and Jameson's personal vendetta against certain superheroes. It was bad enough that a friend of hers—Spiderman, Peter Parker—was a personal target. Now she was as well.

Just then, she had an idea. It hit her, and she quickly took off downstairs, reaching for the newspaper. She turned to a part she passed over earlier. It had an advertisement. The subject was that the paper wanted freelance articles, and was paying money for them. She figured that if she wrote the article, about an act she herself did as Superwoman, then there was nothing that Jameson could do about an already-written article. She grinned. This would also give her a chance to exercise her hearing, just like Daredevil had suggested. She headed out into the city to do some investigating.

As she flew over the city, back in costume once again, she closed her eyes and tried just to hear everything. At first, it simply overwhelmed her, the ocean of noise, but as she focused, she noticed that she could isolate each individual sound, and get an idea for where everything was just by hearing it and figuring the distance between it and herself. It wasn't as refined as Daredevil's, obviously, but she didn't need to be too precise; she just had to hear the right thing. What she wanted had to be criminals talking about meeting to discuss crime. She had a very specific plan in mind, provided she heard words that matched that description.

The southern end of New York gave her just what she was looking for. She quickly landed and hid behind a doorway on the roof of a nearby building. Eighteen crooks sat in what they thought was a soundproof basement. She obviously hadn't caught the whole conversation, but what she heard was damning enough.

"So, Kingpin wants to move against the guy's entire family, huh?" she heard a gruff voice say.

"We'll gather to discuss this in the private location," another added. "East side pier, warehouse thirteen has a thirty-ton cargo container covering a secret entrance. Heavy equipment will move it just long enough for us to enter, and when we're done, it'll be covered again. Nobody has access to it but us, because the heavy stuff won't be there but tomorrow at 3 p.m., and that's when we meet. Ok?"

She heard several voices agree with them, but she'd heard enough. She decided to make another trip to the Baxter Building.

Reed Richards was looking at her cells via a microscope when he heard a knocking on the window. The security system gave him a warning, but he overrode it and let her in. "Back so soon? It's only been a few hours."

She stepped in. "Mister Richards," she began, "I'm looking to get some evidence on some bad guys. Do you have a recording device small enough to be hidden in plain sight?"

Within five minutes, she had, in her hand, possibly the smallest device she'd ever held. It was the size of a marble. Plus, it had an internal memory, so there was no risk of transmitting the signal outside which they might have equipment to pick up the signal of. Not to mention, it also had voice activation, so there was no risk of wasting memory. She quickly made her way to the pier. Her super senses told her that nobody was close by, so she ran into the warehouse that she'd heard from their conversation. Sure enough, a huge shipping container sat near a wall. She grasped it, moving it gently so as not to make too much noise, and saw that there was a trap door underneath it. Quickly, she floated down the ladder and made her way to a small inner room. All the while, she had to be impressed by the brilliance of the location. The room had only one entrance, and that was usually covered by a thirty ton container. Equipment capable of moving it only came in at certain times, and each time there was a perfectly legitimate explanation for everything. Whoever was in charge of this operation had picked a great spot to discuss business.

Other than a table, and some crates, there wasn't much in the room. She noticed a small pile of dust in the corner near a crate, and carefully placed the small round object under the dust. One could look straight at it and not see it. After that, she left, putting the container exactly as it had been, and leaving the warehouse before anyone had a chance to be there. She went off to fight crime, hoping that she didn't lose too much time on her side adventure.

In the heart of the city, a trio of girls walked through the park. They were Liz Allan and her friends, gossiping away about various topics. The topic of hand quickly became familiar.

"So, your boyfriend Flash Thompson's been eyeing that Kent chick," one of her friends said to her.

She gave her the evil eye. "I know. "She's really pissing me off; she can't just leave well-enough alone."

Her other friend rebutted. "But, she hasn't made a move towards him, you know."

"Doesn't matter; by not telling him no, he keeps trying. I'm really about ready to just go off on her myself."

Just then, while her friends were looking away, Liz saw a pulse of light. Out of curiosity, she was drawn.

"Liz, what's over there?"

She bent over a bush to see what had made the light. It was a silvery orb, about the size of a basketball. Instinctively, she reached down and touched it. The moment her hands made contact, a second pulse of light momentarily blinded her. She stumbled backwards, and her partially frightened friends hastily caught her. She shook her head in confusion as her sight and balance returned to normal. "Wow, that was…bizarre."

"What was it, Liz?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Some kind of silver ball?"

Unbeknownst to her, it was more than a silver ball.

_Subject: Liz Allan._

_Diagnosis: Acceptable._

_Brainiac Unit Probe: Online_


	3. Chapter 3

Pieces of Other Realities  
By Moonraker One

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I had to take a break from fanfiction to write my novel.

CHAPTER THREE – Impressions

Sometimes a person would just start the meeting off on the wrong foot.

In Laurel Kent's case, that wrong foot would be the one shoved in her face that launched her through a mountain. She'd heard about the Hulk, but wasn't exactly up to speed on how strong he was. She caught up rather quickly.

"I'm not trying to…OOF!" She found herself interrupted mid sentence by a powerful jab. This next one she had time to dodge. "Hulk! I'm not trying to hurt you, but I will if I have to!"

The green monster would have none of it. "Hulk just wants to be left alone!"

She grabbed one of his arms and hurtled him several hundred yards. "You can be 'left alone' away from the city, Hulk." She flew up to him. "If you want to be left alone, why do you go to the city?"

Hulk swung for her face, grabbing it easily in one hand and smashing her through several rock formations. She broke free of his grip and kneed him in the stomach, throwing him back. His strikes, while powerful, told her the advantage she had: his strength was all he had, while she could put super speed behind her strong punches, increasing the momentum. It was difficult: she quite literally had to move faster than he could get angry. To someone fighting the Hulk, it was not an easy task. She distracted him long enough to get him to follow her away from the city where he'd gone off. As he seemed to be getting stronger, she realized she wasn't going to be able to out-punch him. It was then she got an idea.

She found some debris nearby to use to great effect. Two plates of metal, she grabbed in each hand and smashed them against each of his temples. The sound ruptured his eardrums, ruining his balance. As he fell to the ground, she saw his ears heal and knocked him in the back of the head. The force of the blow quaked the ground for a few hundred yards around, and rendered him unconscious. She wiped her brow.

"Damn it, Hulk, you really know how to make an entrance!" she uttered. Looking around, she saw lots of broken road and strewn glass and metal, but fortunately, she'd been able to focus his anger on her and away from civilians. She lightly smacked Bruce Banner's shoulder; not enough to injure him, but enough to wake him up.

He groggily started awake. "Whuh? Uh?" He saw her standing over him. He gritted his teeth in frustration. "Oh, crap. If you're here, that means…"

She nodded. "Our big green friend showed up again," she confirmed. "Before you ask, no fatalities." Despite everything that had just happened, she helped him to his feet.

"Sorry to put you through that," he apologized. "Bruce Banner, by the way."

She smiled, slightly grudgingly. "Superwoman."

He raised his eyebrows a moment. "Obviously super if you could tango with the Hulk. How'd you knock me out, by the way?"

"Equilibrium," she explained. "He has to hear, just like any other person. I took out his balance, and when he was down, I hit him in the head."

He scratched his head, feeling embarrassed. "Again, I can't apologize enough. It's a good thing you showed up. Is there any way I can repay you?"

She patted him on the shoulder. "The Hulk's power is wasted on these fits of anger. If you could, try and focus his rage on villains." She lifted off the ground. "Try not to get angry, Doctor Banner."

As she made her way back to New York, she thought of heroes and villains. The more she thought of Bruce Banner, the more she found herself unable to place him into either category. The Hulk was such a monster that, while capable of limited thought, didn't seem to have a very strong sense of value toward property or life. On the other hand, Bruce Banner was a scientist she'd read about. How difficult it must be for him, she thought. To have such a power as debilitating as being a gamma mutant, she couldn't help but be glad her powers were a basic part of her.

As she was used to doing, she disappeared into the alleyways of the city and changed into her street clothes, stealthily reintegrating herself with the crowd. As she checked her watch, she noticed she had about twenty minutes left in her lunch period. She carefully disappeared back into the group of students inside the hallways. Adjusting her glasses, she approached her locker and put her morning books in the locker, careful not to let her costume slip out of her pack. She would fix it later. Closing her locker, she stepped away and looked over. Liz Allan was standing next to her.

"Laurel, I'm about tired of you flirting with my boyfriend!"

Laurel rolled her eyes. "Liz, I'm not flirting with Flash Thompson," she exasperatedly stated. "I have no interest in jocks."

Liz pointed her finger in Laurel's face. "Then why don't you drop him a clue? You love the attention, don't you?" She got a bit wobbly. "You…love…dr…" She fainted forward, prompting Laurel to catch her. An instant later, she came to.

"Liz, are you ok? You were berating me about your boyfriend, and then you fainted." She waited until the girl seemed sure of her surroundings. Her demeanor seemed to change dramatically.

She stood very matter-of-factly. "I apologize for my host's attitude," she said. The way she worded her statements took Laurel by a slight surprise. "I didn't exactly get to pick the first person to come into contact with me. Inevitably, though, I have found my way to you, Faora."

Laurel drew back slightly, as if shocked by static electricity. "What are you talking about? How do you know that name?"

Liz draped her arm around Laurel and led her down the hallway, away from people. "While we have a moment, and your classes are not occurring, let us speak," she said. "I am a unit probe of the artificial intelligence known as Brainiac. Are you familiar with me?"

This warranted a strange look from Laurel. "Of course. The Brain Interactive Construct is the central intelligence that runs the entire data network of Krypton. What are you doing here? Wait, HOW can you be here?"

"I received your transmission, and that is how. I know it must have been confusing, being taught all about your home planet by the learning crystal your father gave you, but not knowing if it was still around or not. Rest assured, it is."

Laurel wanted to jump for joy. "Krypton's still around? Amazing! I want to go sometime and visit!"

"Slowly now," Brainiac spoke through Liz. "As a unit probe, I have the capacity to open a portal to Krypton, but I have to build energy for a trip. It'll take approximately six months. In the meantime, I'm here, if you should ever need me." It stepped away from Laurel. "Now, be careful; despite your amazing powers, there are things that can harm even you. Also, be warned: the enemies that attacked Krypton and started the long, devastating war? They're still around as well. They'd never openly attack Earth, but individual operatives might come looking for you." A smile formed on Liz's face. "I will send message to General Zod that his daughter is alive and safe. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return my host to control of her body." She lost consciousness for a moment again, and regained it, and once more Liz Allan was in command of her own body. "Hey, what the hell happened?"

Laurel put on a fake expression. "You must be tired. Why don't you head to class? "

Liz's expression soured yet again. "Don't think I've forgotten! You're as much a drama queen as ever." She stormed off.

Laurel turned around, and bumped into Peter. "Oof! I'm sorry." She stepped back a moment. "You're in a hurry."

He shrugged. "Class is always a hurry." He noticed her demeanor. "You're awfully cheerful."

She hugged him. "My home is still around! I'm going to visit sometime soon!"

He pushed back. "Whoa, wait a minute. You mean…that planet? Wow, that's great news."

"You're telling me," she said. "I've never been to my home before. I can't wait to see what it's like."

He smiled and waved, and she went off to her class. It was long and boring, as predicted. She couldn't wait to get out of the class because of her pet project. Once the lecture was over, she headed out to the docks. She made her way to the secret room she'd been in earlier, and picked up the recording device. Taking it home, she took the audio from the internal memory of the device and recorded it onto a CD. She smiled as she put it into an envelope and hid it in her backpack. She then made her way to the police station.

It was a short walk, and she hid in an alley near the building. Looking through the building, she saw where the chief's office was. Confidently, she changed into her superwoman costume, and put her glasses in the bag, placing the bag in a carefully concealed spot behind a dumpster. She tucked the disc under her arm.

"Alright people," the officer behind the glass said. "We're on a tight schedule here, who's next for…" He paused the moment he laid eyes on Laurel. "Uh, Supergirl is it?"

"Super_woman_," she corrected.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Uh, let me guess. You want to see someone high up, right?"

"The chief, preferably."

He gave her a look of frustration. "Look, miss, I don't see you superhero types come through her very often, but please try to give us some kind of warning next time." He picked up the phone. "Yeah, chief? Just take a look at the security monitor." There was a five second pause. "Alright, I'll let her in." He pressed a button, and a security door opened. "Please just, try not to take any detours, ok?"

She gave a fake smile. "Sure." _Paranoid idiots,_ she thought. _Like they have anything to worry about from me_. She rolled her eyes as she walked through.

The chief's door opened before she would have knocked. The man looked to be in his fifties, with grey hair and a graying beard. A life's share of battles made their mark on him, he had a scar on his chin, that she thought came from a bullet. "If you don't have something for me," he began, "you're wasting police time."

She set the disc on the desk. "Audio recordings of several members of the Kingpin's organization planning a hit in detail are on this disc," she said. "You have enough evidence here to convict. This'll put a huge blow in the organization."

He stared in awe. "How did you get a recording of the planning?"

"I did it with a little help from Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four," she explained.

His expression darkened. "What do you want in return? I know there's a catch."

She took a deep breath. "A reporter named Laurel Kent will receive an exclusive interview about the sting operation, whenever it happens."

He thought for a moment. "Fine, I don't like it, but I'll agree to it if it gets me members of the Kingpin's racket." He took a drink of coffee and pointed at her. "Now it's your turn to give me something. You go undercover for me and help me take down the Punisher."

"Who's the Punisher?" She hadn't kept up to date on every bad person in the city; she just dealt with what came her way.

"He's an ex-marine whose family got killed by the mob," the chief explained. "He's taken it upon himself to fight back. He's become a one man army, killing criminals with extreme prejudice."

She tightened her fist in anger. Nobody deserved to be killed, she felt. For any single individual to go on a killing spree was unacceptable to her; there was no way she was going to say no to such a thing. "I'd love to," she replied. "What's his current body count?"

"Close to two hundred," the chief said.

She let out a sigh. "What do you want me to do?"

An airport just outside of the major city area saw a private jet land. Off of the plane stepped a tall, blonde haired woman in an expensive red dress. Any soul unfortunate enough to have knowledge of the criminal underworld would recognize her as one of the major players in the European organized crime scene. Her facial features were a mixture of Italian and Romanian, and she looked much younger than she was. With her stood ten armed bodyguards, each one looking like a cookie cutter replica of the other. They got into a limousine and left the airstrip and headed into the city. Inside the car, the driver clicked a button.

"Ma'am?" he asked. "Where to?"

"There's a club in a unique location," she said, her accent somewhat Hungarian. "I've got the instructions here in my bag." She opened her purse and removed a hand-written note. One of her bodyguards handed it to the driver.

"Understood, ma'am," the driver said. The car drove on through the crowded streets. After about fifteen minutes, it arrived at a very uptown looking night club and there was a line about a thousand yards long of people trying to get into it, and she got out with her bodyguards while the driver parked the car.

The bouncer immediately recognized her, and let her in completely free of hassle. Apparently, she figured, the common ally had already made all the arrangements. The only reason she came over to this side of the pond was to make contact with one of her best known allies; the Kingpin. She found her way to a private table in the back. As she sat down, a waitress came up to her. "Miss Coruga?" the waitress said. "Your guest wishes to meet with you in a private meeting room to discuss business away from intruding ears."

"That fat goat always has been paranoid," she replied. "Fine. Boys, stay outside the room; if you hear anything out of the ordinary, come in, and don't be afraid to shoot." She followed the waitress to a private room behind a security door.

Immediately upon entering the room and shutting the door, she noticed nothing was there except her and the waitress. "Waitress, what's going…" The waitress interrupted her, instantly pressing a ether covered cloth to the crime boss's mouth, putting her to sleep before she could scream. Gently laying her down, she tapped once on one of the walls, giving the signal.

Instantly, a group of police quietly but quickly entered the room. They cuffed the crime boss and carried her into a side room. One of the senior officers approached the waitress with an exact dress the crime boss was wearing, and had a face mask of her he handed over. "Laurel," he whispered, "are you sure you can pull this off?"

Laurel quickly took off her waitress uniform, quickly changing into the dress. "I sincerely hope so," she whispered. "So, how do I attract the target's attention? I can't just exactly expect a trained marine to attack in the middle of a crowded night club."

"Go out the back door," the officer replied. "He'll definitely attack if she's alone. We've got some of our guys disguised as her bodyguards. Just act natural."

She nodded, and headed down the service stairs, adjusting the fake skin and hair of the mask to perfectly fit her facial structure. After about a dozen steps, she opened the back door of the building, stepping out onto the sidewalk. She looked around, not immediately seeing her target; she had to congratulate him. Hiding from a Kryptonian's sight was not easy. "Bobby," she said, imitating the accent of the crime leader. "Go fetch the car."

None of the officers heard it, but someone drew a gun from their shirt. She could hear the trigger pull, and the bang. Without any hesitation, she spun around and grabbed the bullet out of the sky. It impressed her; if it had been Alana Coruga, the slug would've made its target and nobody would've been able to do anything.

She stared the Punisher down as it took him a brief moment to register that something was up. He tore off into the alley with ridiculous athleticism. If she didn't have super speed, she never would've caught him. Thankfully for her, she caught up to him before he made it six steps. He went for a fast jab which she caught, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him into a wall. In the three seconds it took her to subdue him, he fired five slugs at her, which bounced off.

She pulled off the face mask. "Frank Castle, you're under arrest for over two hundred counts of first degree murder."

"Superwoman? Aw crap." She shoved him to the ground while the officers cuffed him. "You think you're doing the right thing? You costumed heroes always make me laugh. I've got the only real way to deal with bad guys."

"You take it upon yourself to murder," Laurel told him. "There's no excusing that." She picked him up and handed him over. "Officer? If I'm done here, I'm going to be heading off."

The officers got the Punisher into a police car and she followed, making sure he didn't manage to escape. Afterward, she got herself back to her family's apartment, picking up her backpack along the way. She put the dress on her bed, suddenly forgetting it'd been given to her by the police. She shrugged. If they wanted it back so badly, she figured, they'd find a way to let her know. After all, it wasn't as if she could just walk in as Laurel Kent and ask for it back; she had a secret identity to protect.

She took a deep breath. Of all the things to worry about, at the front of her mind was her home planet. She had never known much about Krypton other than what the knowledge crystal had taught her. Also, other than some impersonal information, she also knew next to nothing about her parents, General Dru-Zod and Ursa. Also, a thought crossed her mind: if they couldn't come see her, the war must have really ravaged the planet. She got up off her bed and took a shower. The sting operation would be tomorrow, and right now, she wanted to take a day's break from crime fighting to clear her head.


	4. Chapter 4

Pieces of Other Realities  
By Moonraker One

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long; I devoted several months to writing my first novel, Mind Pressure Quotient. If you can, please buy and read it.

CHAPTER FOUR – The Challenge (Part 1)

Laurel Kent smiled as she read the newspaper. The Punisher had received a life sentence because of his crimes, and was to be transported to a secret location. She set the paper down and leaned back, listening to the city in all of its splendor and horror. As the evening sun set, she prioritized which crimes were to be gone to in what order. She found crime fighting to be easier at night because of the darkness concealing actions. With her super vision, she could see criminals, but they couldn't see her. She'd stopped an act of industrial sabotage and left the bad guys tied up until security got there. Also, a gang planning a hit had been dealt with by her. She took to the sky and listened for screams and checked out incidents. The night turned out to be surprisingly quiet.

She swooped down and saw a pair of young people robbing a title loan institution. Their bodies seemed perfectly normal to her vision, so she approached them ordinarily. She found out quickly this was a mistake. "Alright, you two, time to stop what you're…oof!"

When the young man waved his hand, a bright ball of light shot from his hand and struck her in the chest. She crashed through a wall and left a large indentation in a dumpster.

"Ergh," she groaned, standing up. Her suit had burn marks and her wounded skin healed slower than usual. "Magic," she uttered. "That explains how he hurt me."

She took a side way around to avoid the bursts of magic energy. She zoomed around them in a large circle and took the loot away from them. He swung his hand in an arc, and she barely dodged the heat. "Back off, bitch! I swear I'll melt you!"

"Who the hell are you?" she asked. "Where'd you learn that magic trick?"

"Jason Eccle," he replied, launching an attack she ducked. "I'm leaving here with the cash."

She knocked him backwards, through the glass with a gust of super breath. "Not while I'm around," she replied. "And you're going to be paying for my suit!"

The girl with Jason cried out, "Do the secret thing!"

Laurel had enough time to ask. "Secret what?"

She zoomed towards the magic-wielding thief with super speed, but with a couple hand waves, she found a strong force strike her all over. The next thing she saw was a blinding light. The New York cityscape disappeared into a tunnel of bright light of varying color.

She woke up in a lot of pain. Dramatically unlike New York, the location she found herself in looked like medieval Europe. There were lots of wooden huts and old things she hadn't seen outside of fantasy movies. She stood up, and found herself wearing not her superhero costume, but instead, an animal-hide shirt and pants. Also, she had cuts on her arms, which healed rapidly. "Strange," she thought out loud, "I don't have any of my powers here, but I still have Kryptonian regeneration." She watched the skin heal. "Guess I should be thankful for what I've got." She looked around, and saw lots of people bustling about. She decided to check it out. "Great. I'm in a Tolkien novel," she quipped.

"Oy!" a grizzled old man cried out, watching her approach. "We got us another one!"

She cleared her throat. "I've just been sent here from very far away," she explained. "Might you tell me where I am?"

He chuckled, his fake eye moving with each laugh. "Girl, if you're here, you're going to have to fight your way back to where you came from."

"Figures," she replied. "Where exactly is here?"

"Nobody knows," he shot back. "We just call it the challenge."

She raised a confused eyebrow. "Why?"

"'Cuz if you're here, you're going to have to fight for everything!"

She let out a sigh. Heading towards the nearest place that looked like it had a lot of people, she hoped she could find someone willing to help. There stood a large wooden frame building in the middle of the village. She headed inside. When she did, about two dozen eyes looked at her.

"Well, looks like we got fresh meat," a sleazy looking man seated around a card game said.

"I'm new here," she said, "and I really want to get back home. All I want is some better clothes to wear, some supplies, and a bit of information about where the hell I am, exactly."

A rather muscular bear of a man, towering at about seven feet tall, approached her with an unappetizing look on his face. "Missy, you're in the land of the challenge. You don't get anything if you can't fight. The brave idiots head north to the castle of the grandmaster, and I doubt many of them make it there alive."

"So I have to go north," she said. She smiled and thanked him. "Thank you. Now, where might I find the other two things I need?"

Her question was met with a fist to her stomach and one to her face, knocking her back several feet to crash into a table. She spat up some of her lunch onto the table's remains as she picked herself up. The punch had incredible strength behind it. Any doubt she had about her powers being gone were laid to rest. "You'll find the other two things you need on the opposite side of me!" He pounded his fists together. "I'm savin' you some trouble. You'd be dead in a few days anyway, with that skinny frame of yours."

She wiped her mouth and stood up. Forcing herself to ignore the bad luck she had been given, being torn from her home via magic and deposited in a seedy, medieval tavern full of violent, aggressive drunks, she focused on the task at hand. Immediately, she had a man much larger than herself to face down, and no help from any powers to help her. She remembered her training; in order to fight him, she'd have to use his strength and momentum against him.

"You're mine!" he shouted, swinging for her head. She ducked the punch and grabbed his arm, flipping him over her and onto the ground. Before he could stand up, she wrapped her legs around his neck, squeezing as hard as she could. He turned over onto his stomach and pushed himself to a vertical base, forcing her to let go and regain her footing. He coughed from the momentary lack of oxygen. With an enraged look, he charged her again, this time, she grabbed his shoulders, came down onto her back, and used her feet to launch him over her, into the bar behind her. Having executed a perfect monkey flip, she got back onto her feet. She saw him reeling to stand up, and couldn't allow him. Hastily looking around, she saw a bag full of gold, and lifted the heavy coinage up. She brought it down against his back, knocking him out cold.

She looked around; all the patrons were staring at her, mystified. She looked sheepishly and laughed. "I'm sorry, I guess I got carried away there." The patrons suddenly cheered as she stood as confused as ever. She ignored them, however, because the man disappeared right where he lay.

"Wow, you beat him!" The bartender shouted. "He'd been getting his way with the town for about a week now, ever since he showed up. How'd you do that fancy footwork?"

"Really, it wasn't special," she argued. "I just used his strength to my advantage. The more important question is, where did he go? He was here a second ago."

"That's the strange thing," the barkeep replied. "Anytime someone loses a fight, they vanish. Nobody knows where they go. I've been here all my life, ain't never gotten an explanation." He looked around. "Well, if he's gone, it looks like his gold is yours. Want a drink?"

She sat down. "Water." She took a deep breath. "I just want to get ready to go north. I've got to leave this place. I have a whole city waiting for me, and I can't keep them waiting." She took a sip of the water.

"You're never gonna make it to the Grandmaster's castle if you're that skinny," an elderly voice from behind her cried.

She turned around. The voice belonged to a man that, despite having to be in his eighties, looked quite built for adventuring. He had, at least, twenty inch arms. "I don't have a choice," she answered. "So what do you suggest?"

"You stay with me about…oh…a half a month, and I'll get you in the perfect condition to go. I've made at least five trips back and forth. Got supplies and everything."

"Great," she shot back. "Looks like I'm with you, then. Let's get started."

They made their way across the town, to a large, slightly dilapidated house outside of the main gathering of buildings. It looked impressive despite not being in the best shape. One of the things he did immediately was show her around the inside. The main feature was the basement, where he had quite a lot of equipment with which to exercise and practice combat. She severely hated being stuck in this…whatever this place was, be it another dimension, the past, but she at least wanted to experience as much of it as she could. Once she left, an opportunity like this probably wouldn't come up again.

"I can tell you've got powers on the other side of where you came from," the man said. "The lights always tell us when someone's got powers."

She stopped in her tracks. "Okay, I've had a load of questions ever since I got here," she replied, "and you're going to answer some of them. First of all, where the hell am I, and what the hell are you talking about?"

He found a chair and sat down. "I'm Mitchum, and you're in the land of the challenge. That's all we know to call it since we've been here for the longest time. We call it that because if you leave the main town, you'll fight some of the nastiest things around. Also, anytime someone gets deposited here and they have powers, their powers flee them, and travel north."

"So," she replied, "I'm guessing that's why we have to head north."

"Once you're ready," he reminded her. "Tell me more about your abilities, if you would. It'll make preparing you for the trip a lot easier."

She sat down as well. "Well, I'm almost invulnerable, except for things like magic, I've super senses, super strength, speed, flight, super breath, and that's about it."

"And I'll bet they're based on energy manipulation, the way they looked when they fled you," he said. "Your strength is what I'm mainly concerned about. Once I train you enough here, it should make you stronger when your powers return. What I want to do, is get you much stronger, and when I do, and you get your powers back, you should be able to handle about anything that comes your way."

She looked at him with a strange glance. "So, what makes you think that my super strength will be increased if my non-powered strength goes up?" She was interested to hear his theory, especially since she'd never once concerned herself with how her strength worked, as long as it worked.

He shrugged. "It just makes sense to me," he explained. "What's most likely is that your strength is because of energy being released with the muscle contractions, rather than just the muscle contractions themselves. Face it; you're not like other people, right? So, if there's more muscle, more energy gets produced." He thought of something. "Of course, you probably wouldn't be able to train your muscles if you had your super strength, because nothing would be light for you." He pointed at her with a somewhat proud grin. "You're not the first person I've helped get ready for the journey north and certainly not the first one to have powers."

The last part intrigued her. "Really? People come through here with powers?"

The man thought a moment. "Some people gain the use of magic to open portals. Once they find out that few people return from this place, and it strips the powered of their powers, they use it as a dumping ground for their enemies. It's kinda sad really. I actually like it here." He leaned in. "Whoever sent you here, I'm guessing he was a bad person."

It was her turn to shrug. "I'm a superhero; I save people's lives every day. I've got lots of enemies. This…" she had to think a bit to remember his name, "Jason Eccle, he's probably just some one-timer I'll never see again." She got an exasperated look. "Or he might end up being a constant thorn in my side. Who knows? I just want to get back to where I came from."

Mitchum stood up and headed to the training hall. "Do you heal fast? That's one thing that usually sticks when someone gets here." She nodded. "Good, so that makes my job easier. Here's the schedule: I give you some equipment to work on, you go until your body is sore. Then you eat. I have a special diet to build muscle. After eating, I give you some pointers on fighting. This goes until you're healed, at which point you go back to working on the equipment. This cycle will repeat until it's sun down, and that's when you sleep. Got it?" She nodded. "Good. Now let's begin."

She got onto the device. It looked more like a medieval torture device than an actual means of getting stronger, but for the fantasy-esque level of technology this place had, she was happy to accept what she got. At first, it was a bit hard to get used to seventy pound bicep curls and fifty pound tricep extensions when she could previously trade blows with the Hulk, but as her arms began to feel the heat, she found her second wind. Upon finishing her arms in three different forms of exercise, she switched to her legs. Standing up, she rearranged the machine into a different form, and was soon working her quadriceps and lower back. The whole time he stood and watched, occasionally pointing at things she did wrong. Finally, she worked her abdomen, which he reminded her, was crucial because almost every bodily movement involved the abdomen. More than an hour went by, and she was exhausted. By the time she was off the machine and sweating, her whole body was in pain. He smiled and led her out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Mister…Mitchum…" she said, gasping in between breaths, "How long is this going to take?"

"With your healing?" he thought out loud. "About three weeks. I can do with you in that time, what'd take an ordinary person a greater part of a year to put on. Now sit down, and I'll have the food ready in a moment."

He wasn't lying; it was very hastily put together, and didn't exactly smell enticing. The wooden bowl in front of her contained a liquid solution that was several shades of brown and had meats and vegetables of many different colors in it. He placed some utensils in front of her and smiled, digging into a bowl for himself. "Excuse me, what is in this stew?"

"Enough meat to make you strong enough to knock someone out without the help of a bag of gold," he quipped. "You'll eat three more bowls of this before bedtime. Enjoy!"

She gave the bowl a disgusted look; it was nasty-looking, nasty-smelling, and it wasn't a small portion, either. She guessed she could feed her parents the contents of the bowl and still have enough for herself. Cringing, she took a spoonful; and nearly vomited. It was strange; the liquid part was nasty and vile, but the meat was good. She wrote it off as a consequence of needing to get out of this place. She finished it and nearly felt like her stomach would explode. He didn't hesitate for a moment, grabbing her by the arm and leading her back into the training hall.

"You're quite full, so just sit. I'll explain how I fight," he began. "You don't need to spar with me, we'll have plenty of those later on. Right now, it's survival techniques and fighting. Here's what to do." He motioned like an attacker, coming at a person with a knife, using a wooden knife as a prop. "This is what an attacker usually does; comes straight at you. Very seldom do you encounter someone who stalks quietly. In these situations, you flow like liquid, making sure to always be calm and collected. Never tense up; it gives the enemy the advantage." He motioned stepping to the side and flipping the imaginary attacker onto his back. "Grabbing the wrist a certain way allows you to use their momentum against them. Sometimes, a stronger, larger adversary dooms themselves by being bigger. You'd miss this opportunity completely if you weren't calm." After finishing describing a number of self-defense techniques, he picked up his knife and began explaining how to properly use an animal's weight when they pounced on you to kill them. "If you can drop onto your back at just the right time, the beast will collapse onto you and drive the blade right into their heart."

As she sat, transfixed on the man's tremendous battle knowledge, she completely forgot that her body healed completely of the earlier wear and tear she'd put her muscles through. He walked up and squeezed her left arm. "You can't see it now, but it's working," he reminded. "Your muscles are torn down by you working them, and when they rebuild, they get overzealous, and build more than they have to. But you heal so fast, we'll literally be able to see the effects happening as the days go by."

She went about the same cycle the rest of the day. Later in the evening, his next lecture was about how to properly hunt. It was one of the more interesting things she learned since she hadn't bothered to learn hunting before. After that, it was more exercise. He was right; even the first day, she could see hints of what was to come. It was nothing dramatic, of course, but a bit of a change. After that, was bedtime, and she slept like a rock. At sun up, she woke, got into a new, clean set of clothes, and began her day again. In the morning, instead of just strength training, he had her go on a hike with him, carrying a log for endurance. Upon returning, it was more of the same, and after that, more of the same of exercising, with a few cardio routines thrown in for stamina. It began to occur to her just how much she'd taken her powers for granted; with her powers, she didn't have to worry about any of this, and it all would just go untrained. But now, she was learning how out of shape she was without abilities, and there was no doubt about his methods anymore.

By the fifth day alone, her small pouch of stomach peeking over her beltline was gone. Her abdomen was firm and tight, and hints of muscle tone teased through. Her skinny arms now were thicker, more pronounced, and still not up to where he wanted them to be. Her thighs pushed outward as well, although he, much to her surprise, said they needed more work as well. They went into town to buy more supplies, taking a short break from the endless training.

She went into the tavern for some idle chat, and by this time, most of the bar regulars knew her by name. "Laurel!" one slightly drunken man called out. "Are you really going go the castle up north?"

"I have to get back to where I came from," she reminded him. "Any of you guys know much about this 'Grandmaster's Castle?'"

A regular rearranged his chair to face her. "I think in all the years, only Mitchum's been back to tell us about it, and he never managed to bring anybody back with him to tell us more. He said it's a big place, and only the person who came from outside is allowed in. On the way, you supposedly have to fight things that represent facets of you."

"That's…interesting," she said, slightly unnerved. "I hope I can deal with the problems, then."

"Supposedly," another continued, "the things you encounter are pieces of you. I'm guessing that would be your powers or whatnot."

After she left the tavern, she noticed Mitchum carrying several bundles of supplies, and she took some from him to carry. They returned to his living quarters and got down to more lessons about combat. She had gotten used to the schedule by this point, and the food was no longer a problem. Days turned to evenings, and back to brutal days again. Mitchum did not relent on his training, and Laurel could see the effects of his endless pursuit of her physical acumen take root.

She took mental note of his training routine; she didn't know exactly how she would train like this once her powers returned, but she believed she could've used this sooner. Two days before they were to leave, he ceased her activity so she could be fully rested for the journey. She washed herself and put on a fresh set of clothes that he had bought for her. As she slid on her undergarments, she couldn't help but compare how she was before to how she was now. Before, she had the physical appearance of an ordinary teenage girl. Her stomach pouched out a bit and she had the ordinary curvature of a young girl, but not too pronounced. Now, on the other hand, she had a body worthy of a superhero.

She approached him before she retired to her bed chambers. "So, do you think I'm ready yet?"

He looked her up and down. "Laurel, I think you're ready. One of the reasons I found it hard to imagine you being a hero of any sort back where you came from was how scrawny and ordinary you looked. Now, you look the part. People take powers for granted and rely upon them as a crutch; you had to learn that you didn't have that luxury. Get rested; tomorrow, we pack our final materials for the journey and head out. From there, it's a three day's walk through some of the nastiest terrain you can imagine before we get to the first major point, the river. We follow the river north, and we get to the jungle. Once we get through the jungle, it's a maze up to the Grandmaster's castle."

The first thing they encountered on their journey was quite a lot of searching for places to set up camp. A problem that Laurel did not expect to find in an area with forest nearby was shelter, but her friend and guide insisted that she be careful about where to pick to set up camp. They walked for about eleven hours, stopping every few to hunt and eat, and then they found a nice pair of trees to rest for the night. Mitchum had her use his hunting knife to make hammocks out of fibrous leaves and plant material.

Laurel cut the stringy parts into rope and tied them together into a mesh. While she was doing this, she turned to her friend and guide, gathering wood for fire. "So, I'm not as skilled in the nature aspect as you are, but tell me, why aren't we sleeping on the ground?" Her question broke the humdrum of cutting fiber.

"Because," he replied, "most of the things that will eat you when you sleep dwell on the ground. It isn't the big animals you have to worry about, because they give you plenty of warning. The bugs will crawl all over you if they can feel your body's warmth."

"So," she said. "Did you ever meet anybody else who claimed to be a superhero?"

"You're the first, I'm afraid," he responded. "Mostly, I've seen people sent here and they die along the way because they don't have what it takes. I suppose, if you end up making it, you'll have proven yourself worthy of calling yourself a warrior."

She finished the last hammock. "There, I'm done." She grabbed ahold of the tree with her assisting hook, and climbed to a high branch. She tied it firmly to the tree's body, then slowly descended to string it to the parallel tree. Once she finished, she threw Mitchum his to string. "See you in the morning." She climbed into hers and fell fast asleep. The whole time, she dreamed of home, wondering what horrible things occurred in the time it took Superwoman to finish being banished to another dimension.

She awoke the next morning to soft drops of moisture from the forest canopy dripping on her face. Gently, she latched onto the tree and descended to the ground. Mitchum was already up and so all she had to do was gather the firewood and the rest of the supplies into her animal fur sack. Throwing it over her shoulder, she prepared for another day of many miles of walking.

After the sixth hour, they managed to make it out of the forest, and were on a dirt path out towards the badlands, where he warned her to stay alert. By the eighth hour, they both had swords just in case bandits made their way to where they would be sleeping. "Laurel," Mitchum whispered, "we're going to be encountering a forked pathway. It might look unforgiving, but the left path is the correct one. I guarantee if you take the right path, you'll run right into bandits."

She held the sharp blade carefully in front of her. "Good to know," she said, nervously. It felt a bit strange, holding in her left hand, the sack with all the supplies, and a sword in the other. She thought of how difficult it was just to be going on the relatively short trip they were on; she couldn't imagine being stuck in such an environment all the time. As she moved along, she couldn't help but feel as though something were creeping up on her. She set the pack down and gripped both hands on her sword.

"What's wrong?" Mitchum quietly said.

She shook her head. "I don't know, but I just have this funny feeling."

At the last minute before she would've been skewered from behind, she dropped to the ground. Where she was a moment ago, a figure zoomed past, blades extended, and rolled into a position where it stood up. She stood back from it, wielding her weapon in front of her. The pseudo-humanoid figure had vaguely male facial features, but it was impossible to tell considering that its skin was dark grey and it looked very inhuman. It swung at her with a blade in each hand, and she ducked and rolled to the left. As she stood up, she bent backwards to avoid a swipe and ducked again another slash attempt. "I don't know how you evaded my attack," it said, in a very raspy voice, "maybe you're just lucky, but nothing gets out of my section of the forest unharmed! I can hear a pin drop anywhere in a hundred miles!"

"Good for you," she retorted, slashing out at him. He deftly leapt backwards to avoid her slash and returned with a jab of his, which she moved to the left of. Her fleet-footedness allowed her to move out of the way of a powerful strike, and he moved in to try and hit her with a flurry of slashes. She dodged and attacked. As she moved in for an attack, he ducked beneath a dagger thrown and elbowed her in the gut from his crouched position. She barely had time to recover and duck backwards; an inch closer and he'd have gotten her throat.

"No, you don't," he chastised Mitchum. "You didn't think I could hear you over there, did you? I told you, I hear everything."

She took a chance; as he moved in to impale her on his blade, she pushed it aside with her hand, ignored the pain from the cut, and punched him in the throat. She then reached her cut left hand out farther and grabbed the hilt of his sword, and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him backwards to the ground. "Give it up," she said. "I've got your blade and mine, and you're unarmed. I don't want to kill you."

The figure snarled for a moment, but seemed to be contemplating her statement. Suddenly, though, he reached for his waist cloth and pulled a short blade out of it and charged Laurel. "No surrender!" She found herself in a quandary as she didn't want to kill, but wielded her blades anyway because she had no choice. Mitchum, however, decided for her as he threw a dagger which buried itself in the back of the man's head.

"What'd you do that for?" Laurel shouted. "I was about to…"

"Get killed?" Mitchum interrupted. He pulled his throwing knife out of the man's skull. "You don't get it. Here, you can't hesitate if someone's trying to kill you." He retrieved the other knife from the ground where it'd landed. "Laurel, you're not committing wanton murder, you're killing in self-defense. You have to learn that."

She shook her head. "I…I'm just not cool with killing," she admitted.

"You'd better get good at it. Anyway, let's get moving; I want to at least make a little bit farther before we set up camp."

She looked at her hand, to make sure the cut regenerated, then got all of the supplies to go. She wiped the blood off her blade on the grass and held it in her right hand. They walked for a few more hours, and the path saw virtually any trace of forest disappear. The pathway led to cliff and water far below. A bridge separated the two sections of land with river hundreds of feet below. At Mitchum's request, they walked very carefully, avoiding rocking the bridge too much. After crossing the bridge, they gathered their supplies and found a small hole in a rock wall and stayed the night in. Each one took turns sleeping in shifts to make sure nobody attacked the group.

Upon waking up, the two of them headed out, hunted, ate, and continued walking. The journey seemed endlessly monotonous to Laurel, despite it only being a few days' in. She found it frustrating whenever she encountered a new foe, be it a creature trying to eat them, or bandits trying to steal their stuff. She refused to kill what she perceived as people, and mostly thus far, had scared off anything that wasn't an animal. They crossed into an area that looked very similar to the forest they'd left behind days earlier, but strangely enough, everything inside seemed to be moving very slowly.

Mitchum handed her something out of his pocket. It looked like a part of a plant root. "Eat this," he told her. "I was saving it up for just this part of our journey."

She turned to him. "What's going on?"

"We're entering a forest where time can run differently," he advised. "If you eat this, you'll be free from its effects."

"Good to know," she said, chewing on the root.

The two of them entered the unusual forest, noting the strange way everything looked. Inside, it almost seemed as though the world moved in slow motion. They were still able to move at normal speed, but everything from water dripping from the canopy to the movement of birds' wings was slowed down. She looked on in slight amazement; certainly she'd seen amazing things so far, but she found herself not expecting each new startling thing.

"Take it slow," Mitchum advised. "We're probably going to be ambushed again."

She shook her head. "Nice to see you're staying positive," she commented.

They made it through much of the trippy setting unimpeded, eventually seeing it, once again, give way to an open area. With Mitchum's expertise, she expected to see him notice something and duck. However, as it turned out, she was the one to notice something was up and braced herself. She saw the blur only for the shortest of moments, for soon, it came for her.

Throwing up her arms at the last minute, she got slammed backwards with high velocity and threw her pack off at the last moment possible to avoid it turning into a bone-crunching bag of debris. She got up slowly, dragging herself to a standing position.

"Ah, I get it," she stammered. "The first guy was hearing, this guy is speed." She spat on the ground. "Lovely."

He looked back from her just in time to barely move out of the way of another dash. "I think I've got a plan," he said. "It doesn't seem like this person can use your power the same way you can. There must be a delay of some kind."

"It must be the plant," she said. "Or maybe…" Her eyes widened; she came to a realization, making a motion to her lips with her hand. Mitchum, with his experience, caught on immediately. What she figured out, was that the reason the attacker was slowing down, was because of something she herself had never bothered to think about before; it became impossible to hear what the enemies were saying while a person was travelling at super speed, because normal people speak at normal speed. He was pausing to listen to their conversation to plan. After all, it wasn't like they were going to stick around long enough to give them a chance to spot him.

Mitchum scouted around for their adversary, what little good it would do, and quickly turned to Laurel. He pointed to his ear, indicating that it would be wise for her to use her newly-regained hearing ability to try and get the enemy's bearings.

She focused her super hearing. She could tell her enemy was scurrying around to avoid being detected; she could hear the tell-tale sound of steps moving faster than they should. At the speed they were going, they sounded like cards being shuffled, but she could hear them over the ambient noise of the forest. She heard her enemy moving towards them, and started to turn her head in that direction. Sure enough, the enemy moved far away suddenly. She smirked; despite being nearly super-fast, the foe didn't know how to properly battle. She stepped in the direction of Mitchum, and it all happened incredibly fast.

She dropped a pouch attached to her hip, and reached down to pick it up. In the brief moment that happened, the foe took to the offensive and dashed in for the kill. Mitchum reached down, as though he were reaching to help her. However, at the last possible moment, he pushed the knife out of the concealed part of his hand. He held his arm out as hard as he could. The enemy could not slow down fast enough. Laurel crouched down and held her head strongly. Their speedy enemy crashed into the knife, burying it into his chest, and tripped over Laurel, slamming into a tree and finishing the job. She felt a shiver come over her as her speed powers returned.

"That's another power regained," she said. "Only a bunch more to go."

"We're getting closer," Mitchum said. "The journey should be easier when you get the rest of your powers back."


	5. Chapter 5

Pieces of Other Realities  
By Moonraker One

CHAPTER FIVE – The Challenge (Part 2)

After winning back two of her superpowers, Laurel started to feel a bit more secure. Before, Mitchum and she found themselves at the mercy of their ability to survive. Now, she could hear enemies coming, and had the speed to take them out if necessary. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her that her powers had to be fought for. After all, this place was called "The Challenge." The longer she stayed, the more fitting it seemed.

"So, how much farther do we have?" she inquired, thinking about how much ground they'd covered. She got the feeling that it wasn't much, even though they'd left the village way behind.

"There are at least five more quadrants to go through," he admitted, "and each of them take about a dozen miles or so of ground to cover. The good news is, after each one, we'll probably fight someone and you'll get one of your powers back. If you're a strong as you've said, once you get strength back, it'll be a cinch and we won't have to worry at all."

"That's comforting," she quipped.

They ventured on. She used her hearing for most of it, making sure they didn't get caught. Only a few times did bandits decide to cross their path, and each time, she knew of their coming long before they actually could get there. She saw another potential purpose of her coming here: now she had newfound respect for her powers. Having spent almost her whole life with them, she had no idea how weak she was without them. Having to fight off bandits and defeat enemies of all types and powers, with no assistance, it showed her how important it was to be strong without a crutch.

They approached another major section of the pathway after a few more hours. Unlike the last two encounters, which both were seemingly at random, this time she knew a fight was coming. In front of them was a large arena, seemingly empty except for a few piles of dead bodies lying at various intervals around the inside of the open arena. Both Mitchum and she went in, because the only way she was going to be getting home was with her powers intact, and the only way that would happen would be if she beat all the enemies. They readied whatever weapons they could find.

The other side of the arena had a gate which opened slowly, and out of it, lurched a ten-foot tall creature, with skin brown like mud, but shiny like polished rock. He had a completely inhuman face, with sunken-in features of aggressive appearance and large ebony teeth. His red eyes gave off a hateful glow. He approached to within eight feet of Laurel. She stared up at him in confusion; what power did he represent? Did his eyes represent heat vision? Did his skin represent invulnerability? She had no clue. She took up a fighting stance, and Mitchum used that opportunity to drive his blade into what looked to be a soft spot on the creature's knee, underneath a rocky plate. His sword cracked just at the tip.

"Okay, invulnerability," Laurel noticed, immediately doing a rolling leap to her right, his powerful, large fist driving down into where she was a moment prior. Mitchum kicked off the creature's side, launching himself backwards several feet. He knew that if the creature was as durable as Laurel said, there would be little he could do save devise a strategy.

Laurel thought as she scurried about. Keeping moving meant he would be unable to hit her, but it also meant she wouldn't be able to hurt him. What confused her was, she knew of no weakness to her own power. She dodged him for another three minutes while she thought of it. Eventually, an idea occurred to her; it was an idea that seemed absurd, but was the only one she could think of. _Perhaps_, she thought, _his power isn't mine exactly, but a representation._

She stopped where she was running. If this idea of hers was true, it would be the only way to kill this thing. It also meant that she'd have to put herself at risk. Either way, there would be danger, so she decided to do it.

She ran up, faster than the creature could see her, and grabbed onto its torso. Sure enough, it wasn't smart enough to understand anything other than attack. He swung at her, and she leapt out of the way. He hit himself in the abdomen, and true to her own thought, it wasn't her invulnerability, because the blow hurt. After the creature recoiled from its own attack, she noticed a trickle of blood. The only way to kill it, she knew, was by the own attack of the creature.

"Come and get me!" she shouted, leaping onto the shoulders and grabbing the creature's head. It swung at her and she handily bounded away just in time for it to knock its own ear off, creating a loud screech and a spray of blood. The large monster collapsed to the ground. She grabbed Mitchum's cracked sword, and with a shout, drove it into the exposed wound. A final growl and it died right there. A familiar tingly feeling came over Laurel and she felt another power return. Her worn muscles healed and her skin felt durable as it was before she came to this place.

"I'm amazed, Laurel," Mitchum complimented. "You beat that damned thing without my help at all."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "Now that my invulnerability is back, I can stop worrying as much about our trip."

After gathering their equipment that had been left at the entrance, they moved on. The area was surprisingly open. After forested areas in large quantity, they were glad to have more open plains. She had learned to appreciate her powers more; before, with her invulnerability, came limitless stamina, as her body could almost instantaneously remove waste products. For this journey, however, she'd learned just how tiring walking for days on end could be. Also, that was after she'd spent quite a while at Mitchum's abode training her physical body for the current trip.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that this Challenge, whatever it represented, it gave her a chance to get herself into a more super-heroic shape. Before, she was just a normal teenager with superpowers. Now, her thicker, more ripped arms and tree-trunk like legs were the kind of physique to be jealous of. It slightly amazed her to think of how she used to take her abilities for granted. She thought of Captain America, and how he wasn't even above peak human, but was able to be so active as a hero. Just thinking about it made her feel like she was earning her proverbial stripes.

The more they walked, the more they felt like partners having worked together for years. Mitchum's knowledge of nature and Laurel's never-say-die attitude made for a team that, so far, nothing seemed to equal. She carried much more of the burden of their supplies than usual, now that she could walk almost limitlessly without tiring. Days had gone by without any problems. They'd walked for so many miles that they actually started to forget just how far they'd gone. Mitchum knew where he was going, and they went across bridges over sheer cliffs, went across large rivers with tumultuous waters, and faced down the occasional bandit here and there. They felt like, in the brief period of time that they knew each other, they had learned each other's fighting styles inside and out, as well as a great deal of secrets. Laurel talked about the planet Krypton and her life on Earth, and how much she wanted to see exactly what her home world was like. Mitchum talked about his life in this mysterious land called the Challenge. He talked about how he'd love to leave someday and actually visit somewhere where life was different.

It seemed like an eternity, and they'd encountered quite a few baddies along the way, but finally, they made it to the Grandmaster's castle. The foliage got shorter and shorter, until it barely poked above the well-manicured grass in the acres leading up to the large, golden castle. The front gate was adorned with jewels of almost any describable kind and color, statues of warriors she'd never seen before or heard of were lined up in perfect geometrical arrangement near the structure. She took a deep breath and looked over at Mitchum before she grasped both handles of the gate and pushed inward, opening it with a creaking sound. Setting their supplies near the inside entrance, by a large stone wall that attached itself to the gate and went around the entire outside perimeter of the surrounding area. Cautiously, Laurel drew her sword and trudged on. She felt somewhat nervous; despite having her speed, invulnerability, and super hearing, some of her powers had yet to return to her. Her flight, her strength, and her vision powers lacked. Still, this was the point of the journey she'd been waiting for, and she dared not linger on any longer than necessary.

Continuing to step with nervous unease, both of them made sure to keep their senses glued on whatever might be approaching to wish them harm. They walked down a lined pathway up to the front of the castle, and the large entrance sat exposed to them. They both walked in, keeping as alert as possible.

As they trekked down the long corridors and hallways of the castle, they noticed the torches lit along the walls leading them to a central room. As they left the narrow pathways and stepped into the large open throne room, a door slid shut behind Laurel and she suddenly turned behind her and noticed that Mitchum had disappeared. She turned back to the throne and there stood a tall man, garbed in golden armor, and had a slight glow about him.

"So, you are Laurel Kent, and you have travelled here," the Grandmaster said. "I don't appreciate the person who sent you here using my dominion as a realm of exile, but I will certainly hear your request, since you have, in fact, completed the Challenge. That's the purpose of this place."

She set down her sword. "So, mister, uh, Grandmaster," she replied, "I've only got three of my powers back, and I'd like to return home."

He waved his hand, and an invisible wave of energy came over her, and she suddenly felt her remaining powers return to her.

"There, young one, your missing powers have been returned to you. There is just one last test, however," he said.

She barely had time to take in what he said before he simply vanished from his throne, appeared before her, and delivered a crushing blow to her solar plexus which sent her into the far wall. Her body left an impact on the wall, which to her surprise, actually repaired itself instantly. Collapsing to the ground, she stood up. She hadn't felt pain from a punch quite like that before. Once she stood up, she noticed her animal fur garb magically turn into her superhero costume. The difference was, this time, it looked to be made of higher-quality fabric and not of the stuff she'd made it out of. She clenched her fists in retaliatory fashion. She noticed a smirk on his face. She zoomed after him at full speed and prepared for battle.

He ducked below her first swing and went for an uppercut from his crouched position. She leaned her head back to avoid the blow and delivered a strong knee to his stomach while he was preparing for her next move. It pushed him back, but he covered his response to the pain from her attack quite well. He then aimed for her torso but she scooted backwards at incredible speed, then returned for a straight hook to the chest. He moved out of its way but she had time to clothesline him with her left arm when he moved. Her blow sent him to the floor with force to crack the stone. She went for a stomp and he rolled out of the way and flew to his feet, attempting to kick her with a backflip on his way up. He landed on his feet and dodged a straight punch to kick her in the chest, sending her backwards a bit. He flew forward, pinning her to the wall and impacting a dizzying flurry of blows. She reeled a bit but took the blows with stride, as it got him close enough for her to push him back, deliver an elbow strike to his forehead, and then she nailed him right in the sternum with a punch at almost full force. His eyes bugged out as he felt his wind get knocked out of him. The back wall almost shattered, protective spell and all, from the sheer force from which he impacted. He collapsed to the ground. She popped her knuckles as the slight bruises from his tremendously powerful attacks healed very quickly.

"I could do this all day," she taunted him.

He stood up, and looked almost completely unaffected by her attack. Still, she could see a look in his eyes which told her that he didn't want to experience something else quite like that. He smiled and walked past his throne, knocking twice on the wall behind it which caused an entrance to open.

"You're a hell of a fighter," he complimented. "I can see now why you deserve the title of hero."

She walked past him and noticed a large stone basin with water in it. A light glow came from the bottom. "What's this?" she asked.

"Drink from it, and you will be transported to wherever you want to be," he said. He went to leave. "I've got business to attend to; another traveler has appeared in my dominion." The stone wall closed behind him.

Carefully, she took a pouch out of her pocket, a bladder which Mitchum had made to collect water, and filled it up. This was a rare opportunity, she figured; why waste it? After filling it up, she took a drink from her cupped hands, thinking about her home. The reality around her started to fade a bit, and she found herself woozy. She collapsed to the floor, and woke up on her own bed.

She noticed the bladder pouch filled with the magic water and realized it wasn't a dream, and she noticed her new super costume was still made from the better materials, so she took it off and got into her evening clothes. She thought of Mitchum and felt a bit sad that she wasn't going to see him again, but her thoughts turned to a more cautious realization. The person that had sent her here, a criminal by the name of Jason Eccle, she figured somehow, she hadn't seen the last or the worst of him.

"I'm Superwoman," she said to herself. "I've beaten a challenge and I proved myself without my powers."

In a way, she felt thankful to the criminal; he'd given her the gift of experience.


End file.
